Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 2 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
More baby birds shenanigans!
Also available as a chapter in Nestlings.
THIS IS SO GOOD HOLY FUCK I NEED MORE OF TINY ANGO
You’re in luck, friendo, because I have just copied all my Young Angus Verse minifics into an anthology over on ao3 [right here] for your viewing pleasure.
More minifics as more prompts come in, of course. You know where my ask box is.
The twins flourished in any environment that was away from the orphanage. The further they got from those chilly, urine-soaked and mould-infested walls, the healthier they got.
Which was part of the reason why Carey and Killian bid on the old, Elven farm in the first place. It was a run-down old place but the Mountain Ygdrassi that was the main building was still alive and the estate grounds held some promise of being returned to beauty.
What they hadn’t expected was the wards that prevented most people from inspecting the interior, or doing anything related to renovations. But that was another story for another time.
The twins breezed through the wards as if they were nothing but early morning mist, and an investigation revealed that they were the legal inheritors of the house, mountain fastness, estate grounds and all. Which was another story for another time[1].
The good news was that Elven wards recognised that family wasn’t always genetically related, and that love bonds overwhelmed legal ones. Therefore, once the twins trusted their new, adopting parents, they too could pass through the wards without trouble.
Of course, the paperwork was so much slower than that. Demanding visits and inspections and reams upon reams of forms to fill, bureaucratic hurdles to leap, and red tape hoops to leap through.
The twins were almost seven, and spending less and less time in the orphanage. This would be their first complete year in the care of Carey and Killian Fangbattle.
The good news was: the twins were getting used to having people who cared for them and wished to keep them.
The bad news was exactly the same as the good news, because both Lulu and Koko could be up to anything whenever they were quiet.
Carey and Killian both got accustomed to the noises of children. Which screams meant “I’m legitimately hurt/in danger,” and which ones were screaming for the sake of screaming. Which levels of crashing cacophony were worth investigating and which ones were simple horsing around.
They were still learning about what a hazard Being Quiet was.
Killian had taken a few Stealth lessons from her lovely Dragonborn wife, and used them as she looked for their kids. They had been entirely too quiet for entirely too long, so it was way past time to check on them.
She found them in the Big Kitchen, one perched on the other’s shoulders, and the higher twin at just the right height to raid the cookie jar. Which was exactly what they had been doing before she found them.
She folded her arms, anticipating a rain of horseshit from her boys[2] in just a few seconds. “You two do know that those are for treats and not meals, right?”
They froze, Lulu with one cookie in hand, Koko halfway ready to bolt.
“We can explain,” said Koko, hurriedly.
Killian nodded and said, “I can wait.”
Lulu, a step ahead of his brother, started putting cookies back into the jar. “We didn’t want to bother you,” he said.
“We’re used to foraging for ourselves, y’know?” said Koko. “We’ve only been in the orphanage for like a year, so…”
“Also we don’t know your plans for the stuff in the pantry,” said Lulu. “Or the ice box[3].”
Wow. That was almost plausible horseshit. Killian was impressed. “You are allowed to ask if you have any ideas for cooking a nice meal. Your mom and I could even help.”
The last of the cookies returned, Lulu put the lid back on the jar. “We… we’re -uh- we just…”
Koko sighed. Slumped a little in defeat. “We wanted cookies, okay?”
They flinched in unison, anticipating any number of things that the asshole side of the family had done to them before they became runaways. Killian didn’t let her anger towards those unseen Elves show on her face or in the way she moved.
“I know,” she said. “Everyone wants cookies. The thing is, you two need more than just cookies to eat.” She hugged Lulu off of his brothers shoulders. “It’s okay to ask for stuff, okay? We’re here to make sure you grow up healthy and happy. In that order.” She scooped up Koko into her other arm. “Okay?”
Koko was the more likely to be depressed about things. He was a natural pessimist, an attitude only enforced by the sheer volumes of suck that had landed on the both of them since they were practically babies. “…we’re never getting cookies,” he mumbled.
“We didn’t say that,” said Carey, entering the big kitchen. She wrapped her lithe, blue-ish arms around all three of them. “Cookies are for after a healthy dinner, okay? That’s the rule. Your mama and I can follow it, and so should you.”
Killian carried their boys over to the Aga that nestled in the ancient hearth. “Since you’re hungry, how about we cook up a Mess together? Everyone picks an ingredient and we try to make it work.”
Smiles won out on their dappled faces. Koko went for the honeycomb and Lulu went for the chillies. It looked like tonight was going to be another Sweet’n’Spicy Mess for dinner.
[1] See Over the Meadow and Through the Woods… for the basic shape of it.
[2] My headcannon is that Lup/Lulu wasn’t aware of her true identity before age 10. In this universe it might even be age 8. Either way, she has neither realised nor told anyone yet.
[3] What people had before they invented refrigerators.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 8]
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Krav and Barry do turn up, but they’re in the “employ” [read: blackmail] of a lichy/vampyric type who’s keeping them in heel with circumstances beyond their control
It’s nebulous at this point but Lord Buttmunch is allegedly protecting the both of them from the wrath of the Raven Queen ™. Both our boys are technically undead but not really? I’ll figure out that much horseshit when I get there and not a jot before.
Either way, whatever happened to them is (a) not their fault, (b) not easily reproduced, and © a constant threat hanging over their heads.
They’re pretty much foils/opponents to the Terrific Trio (plus Magnus) for about ten or so adventures until they figure out a way to get the good boyfriends out from under Lord Buttmunch’s thumb.
This can lead to such fun lines as, “I don’t want any trouble - it’s my day off.”
Of course Koko and Krav pretty much immediately start trading double entendres and dirty talk and may even date when they’re not on the clock. Lulu and Barry spend 90% of their time blushing and mumbling at their feet in a much shorter take on the in-cannon slow burn. This time only taking ten years instead of the cannon 47+.
[The bad news is: this is ten years after the birds more or less come of age. For the sake of expediency, I’m skipping the 100-years rule and going with the Elves-Decide rule for maturation for this AU. Just so there’s no hinky or sad parts]
I’m still thinking about how these two could possibly be committing Necro-crimes, and I lean towards something involving missing their fated death or some outside force messing with their fate. [I used to read Jack online and the idea of missing one’s chance to die holds some allure to me]
Barry’s probably going to be his own victim. He seems like the kind of nerd who’d delve into arcane knowledge way above his reading grade to resurrect a pet and accidentally end up nigh-immortal. Either way - accident, not design.
The simplest solution - care of genius bby boi Ango - is to confess all to the Raven Queen and offer to do her bidding. Which includes trouncing Lord Buttmunch. The boyfriends become reapers and life becomes both hunky and dory.
Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 99 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Fae shenanigans
Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 98 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Susan’s perspective on Jason’s redemption arc. With a little redemption for hubby Kyle as well
Love doesn’t bloom in isolation. We learn to love as we learn our capacity for it. There’s the usual gamut of distant fandom though terrifying crushes and missed opportunities, to actually gaining the confidence to pursue love.
It’s a rocky path to tread. Unrequited love, bad matches, good matches with bad timing, and those who predate on those who crave love. Fortunately for Angus McDonald, young adult detective, he had a family who could see the warning signs and at least protect him from the worst of it.
Well. As much as any family could do so, anyway.
She appeared to perfect. Perfect hair. Perfect style. Perfect look. She worked in a salon and Angus met her briefly in the coffee shop he had temporary employ in.
She would rattle off her order like a song and Angus’ job involved having it ready as soon as possible. He had it timed perfectly. Viente soy latte with two shots of no-sugar caramel and no-fat whip. He could start it going when she was within five spaces in the queue and have it ready a bare minute after she ordered.
He always carried it to her table, and the conversation was always the same. “Your coffee, miss. Viente soy latte with two shots of no-sugar caramel and no-fat whip. Can I offer you a discount doughnut, muffin, or biscotti?” It was his job to say that.
She didn’t look at him, busy with her makeup or her Stone of Farspeech. She’d grab her coffee and sashay out of there.
Today, though, she spoke to him.
“Euw. No…” and then she walked off again in her perfect shoes with her perfect dress and her perfect nails with her perfect coffee.
Angus didn’t care about the attitude. All that mattered was that she spoke to him. Two words wasn’t much, he had to admit, but people had to start somewhere. Which meant that he had a greater hope for the next day. And the next week. And the next month.
He always felt stupid around her. All he had was his lines, and she had said a sum total of two words to him. So far.
It ended when he had another growth spurt and bulked up practically overnight. Taako was horrified and having a conniption about it for the entire year. Sending him unhelpful messages like, STOP GROWING! and other words to that effect.
This time, she looked at him. “Hey,” she said. “How did you get the job away from the kid?”
Angus’ world crumbled. “I am that kid, miss,” he said. “I’ve been working here every weekday afternoon for almost two years.”
She gave him the once-over, read his nametag, and compared his face with the wall loaded with Employees of the month. “Oh,” she said. And then, “Whoah.”
Angus said, “I had a crush on you for a while. Talk about ships that pass in the night, right?”
She said, “I thought you were a barista, not a sailor.”
That was when he knew. She may look perfect, but she was far from his ideal partner. He told Taako that he’d been right about her the whole time.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]
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[AN: more or less directly following from Kitchen Fight over on AO3]
Criminals were a superstitious and cowardly lot. Likewise, so were performers. Therefore, the cast and crew of Montgomery Pithon’s Amazing Circus were doubly superstitious and cowardly as any of the two previous groups. He had something of a story. He had to have reserve stories.
People loved stories. So far, the miraculous appearance of two Sun Elves was goon enough, but sooner or later, questions would be asked. He had to act quickly.
There should be some spare clothing about their size somewhere in the costume cart. He snagged the most sympathetic and gullible person who had finished their food. Lammerly. “I’m certain we’d like our new guests to feel welcome. There’s room for a couple of bunks in my office trailer, but clean clothes of good quality won’t go amiss. You savvy?”
Lammerly’s eyes went wide. “Oooh. Yes! Should I make them some spiced honey milk? The fae folk love spiced honey milk. It’ll make them feel welcomed for sure.”
Monty sprained something making the effort to not roll his eyes. “Sure. Clothes first, of course. Then the beverages. They are, after all, still eating.” He glanced over to his trailer, where the twins had finished their plates and had begun on his neglected one.
He could deal with one less meal. They clearly couldn’t. He slithered towards the chuck wagon to round up a big bowl of leftovers. Not that that was very much. A gratefully hungry crew had only left scrapings inside the containers.
Montgomery added a heel of bread and an armload of apples to the haul before slithering back to the twins. “I guessed you might be hungry,” he said, depositing the bounty before them. “Fill those empty bellies. Then we’ll get some bedrolls installed in my office,” he gestured at the cart.
“Where the money is?” said one.
“No,” said Montgomery, five steps ahead of them already.
*
It was a state that didn’t last long. The twins over-ate, then made pigs of themselves with the spiced honey milk. So naturally they were more than a little regretful about that before the night ended.
“…ooooOoOOooooOOOOoooogh…”
“While I’m inclined to advise you take it easy,” said Montgomery. “There’s an entire camp that would like breakfast. I can carry you gently there if you like.”
“…ithinki’mgunnabesick…”
“We’ll be packing up and moving out,” Montgomery advised. They had slept in their new clothes. Of course they had. “So a light, quick breakfast is advisable.”
He piggy-backed them to the chuck wagon, where the twins did a few interesting things with toast and eggs. Their bickering was greatly reduced, that morrow. A state that would definitely not last long.
Inside of two days, they started getting into stuff. They rifled through Montgomery’s office and found nothing more interesting than maps and paperwork.
He glared them down until they started putting everything back.
The instant the circus hit the next town, he had a "beginner’s act” for the twins. It didn’t take a lot of talent. Anyone could do it. “Tell me,” he said. “Have either of you heard of the Wild Man of Bor’ne’o?”
They hadn’t. He explained it. All they had to do was wear “Wild Man” costumes in a prop cage in the sideshow, talk amongst themselves in their own language, and occasionally snarl at the visitors who paid a silver to come gawk at them.
Low light conditions would help, since their odd eyes would glow in those circumstances. It would also hide the fact that their hair would be dressed to look like it was unkempt and riddled with sticks and assorted debris.
The story of the mysterious wild Elves would be heavily embellished, and the barkers would play it up for all they were worth. Meanwhile, some of the those with less to do would be making ridiculously simple ‘witch eye’ shields out of cardboard, sticks, and coloured cellophane.
Cheap, disposable, and sold for profit enough to make twice as many when the day was done. The frames included some horseshit sigils around the edge.
The rubes ate it up. Good news.
The twins were unnervingly good at it. Not so good news. On one hand, they were brilliant. On the other hand, that meant they were going to get bored.
The twins were going to need training.
Montgomery was going to have to come up with some horseshit so that his crew would be willing to teach these kids.
Fuck.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]
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Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 95 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
Karaoke night at the BOB
The extra performances would have to wait until they hit the next town and they would all be praying that they wouldn’t need it until long after then. For now, the focus was on packing everything up for an expeditious retreat from Ranratton.
The twins, the usual barometer for this kind of exodus, had already packed up everything they owned into their caravan. Therefore, they were helping pack up the mermaid act with La’ming. None of them were dressed to impress and La’ming took that particular creed to heart. She hadn’t even changed out of her sleepwear: a pair of briefs and a loose half-shift and nothing else. She had washed her hair and hadn’t taken it out of the towel wrapped around her head for hours.
Currently, her hair was in a scruffy bun and she had slipped into storytelling mode. As long as they gave a cursory effort to packing, things would be allowed to persist.
“…so there I am, in my knickers. Three Orcs, a Drow, and five Gnomes surrounding me, and I only had the feather fans,” La’ming said to her enthralled audience: two underaged Elves who could almost feel the way this story was going to go, and were praying that they’d actually hear it this time. “So I said to the Drow, I said–” La’ming frowned, looking outside the tent. “What the fuck does she think she’s doing?”
Koko looked to Lulu, who shrugged. At that exact moment, there was a rather familiar screaming howl of immense upset. The twins knew it by heart. They had, after all, heard it for almost five hours in the Ranratton Watch Cell.
Mak’arune was having a nervous breakdown out on the larger fairgrounds. Largely because she had what looked like her entire life to date packed, piled entirely too high and definitely precariously on a tiny dolly trolly that was never made to roll anywhere over grass and packed dirt. She was in a ridiculously overblown dress and an equally overblown hat, trying to shove the overloaded dolly trolley another inch or two, and currently having a very tearful breakdown.
Koko took all of this in and said, “I’ll fetch Monty, you do the girl thing.”
“Girl thing?” boggled Lulu.
He pointed. “That’s no-man’s land, dingus. I go out there, I’m dead. Go be girls together. Fuck. I’m getting the boss, this is totally over my head. I’m gone.” To prove his point, he took off out of the tent and towards the greater mass of the disassembling circus, screaming for Monty the whole way.
Lulu looked up to La’ming, who was perched on one of the larger cases.
La’ming rolled her eyes and hopped down. “Fine. Let’s go mop her up.”
*
Montgomery could almost tell the story from the scene he encountered. The mousy, shrinking violet of a milliner had either decided or been forced to leave town. She packed everything she owned onto the only transport she had - a tiny dolly trolley that had never shifted a couch in its life. Which was now underneath a literal pile of boxes and some pieces of furniture, and some brand-new suitcases.
Mak’arune was miserable, flanked by La’ming and Lulu. The former had a scarf draped across her front that she couldn’t be convinced to wear by any other living being.
Everyone in his circus knew that La’ming’s evening half-shift was transparent as hell and showed everything underneath. Everyone knew better than to look when La’ming was dressed down. Therefore, someone in this triumvirate had convinced her to put it on and Lulu had never had the chops.
Therefore, mousy, shy, understated Mak’arune simply had some form of power that three hundred and forty people didn’t possess. Which instantly gave her worth to anyone tired of seeing La’ming’s boobs on her ‘dress down’ days.
He lowered himself to somewhere below Mak’arune’s eyeline and said, “What has happened here?” in the softest, gentlest voice he could muster.
“My reputation’s ruined,” Mak’arune wailed. “I’ve got a criminal record and my business is over and there’s nothing left so…” gasp sob. Lots more sobbing.
Lup patted her shoulder ineffectually. “She’s got nowhere to go and all of this shit,” and gestured at the overloaded dolly. “It’s… kind of our fault she’s like this, so…”
“We have to at least set her on her feet somewhere that’s… less…” La’ming gestured back towards Ranratton and trailed off.
“Less of a racist mud-hole?” suggested Koko.
“Tha’s–” hic, “that’s–” hic, “that’s my only ho-ho-hoooommme…”
Koko gestured wildly. “You see?” he said above the hubbub, “You see? I come out here, I’m dead.”
“Only because you keep trying to eat your foot, goofus,” said Lulu.
Montgomery gently took one of her hands and patted it gently. “Miss Mak’arune… you are welcome to come with us until such time as you find greener pastures.”
“I’ll never keep up,” she bawled. “I’ll be left in the gutter!”
Montgomery shared a Look with La’ming, and the twins. Yes, she’s a wet hen, but she’s also our problem.
“There’s a bunk space in the costume cart,” said Koko. “That’s where we hid before the Chuck Wagon Incident.”
Monty glared at him. “So that’s where you two were squirrelled away… Explains… quite a few things.”
“What about her stuff?” protested Lulu. “She’s got her stock and half her house on there.”
Monty sighed and said, “I’ll have a chat with Rynmaru and Kustaad. They have some space. We can manage some wriggle room until she can get a caravan or a cart for all…” he looked up. And up. And up, to where a stool was perched precariously on a table, which was nebulously resting on several hatboxes.
She was an excellent milliner… she likely had the core skills… “Miss Mak’arune… we have a rather urgent need for a costumer. Perhaps, while we sort out where to stow your belongings, you could have a look at some of the worst cases and see what you can do?”
That huge hat of hers had to be her own work. It was also her own advertising. Everything she did to that hat, she could do with outfits. Well. Maybe not with all the dead birds and silk flowers…
His wife was going to kill him for adopting another lost soul.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]
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